Oberon
by Weirdlet
Summary: The high king Oberon is bored with elfish court life. When he asks Bast to allow him to see what a cat's life is like, chaos ensues.
1. Part 1.

Oberon **__**

Oberon

I don't own CATS, I don't own _A Midsummer Night's Dream_, just the few characters I made up. Enjoy, it'll get interesting eventually.

Oberon sat down on his short, fuzzy kitten-tail and mewed. Darn it, he was cold, hungry, and his littermates were playing too rough! Why didn't Mother come back and _do_ something? 

A large ankle came into view, just outside the nest under the porch. A voice spoke. Oberon tried to listen, but suddenly two big dog-voices started barking madly. All he could make out was "Oh, ugh . . ." and "Bad dogs!" and "That poor cat; why did I keep these neurotic bull mastiffs?" The kitten had no idea what that meant.

Twitching his ears, sharply pointed with little lynx-tufts at the ends, the snowy kitten turned back to face the inside of the nest. His deep, bright green eyes took in Rags, Mop, and Muddle in a three-way pounce on each other. 

Ignoring them, Oberon continued to mew piteously, while the human walked on, not hearing him over the mastiffs' irate booming barks.

Rum Tum Tugger sauntered over the fence, grinning to himself over the fine, tasty looking pigeon in his mouth. Now he'd just go leave this on his owner's bed, and have some tuna, or maybe salmon, or lamb, or . . .

From the yard to his left he heard a mournful wailing mew. There seemed to be no other cats in the area. Hmm. No other cats, so he'd have to investigate himself. Drat.

Dropping down from the fence, Tugger immediately noticed three things. One, two big mastiffs asleep in an enclosed dog run. Two, a human walking away after cleaning up the remains of a taffy-colored queen. Three, the mewing came from under the porch and was more insistent than ever.

Making sure the human was gone, the black and gold tom struggled under the porch, for he was a very large cat, and stared at what met his gold eyes.

Four little kittens were in a nest. One was pure white, with green eyes. One was taffy-colored, like the remains the human had been dealing with. One was a patched and striped calico, and another was a tortoiseshell. Oddly enough, the white kitten was the only one whose eyes weren't still blue.

The snowy kitten faced him with its very green eyes and imperiously demanded "Where's Mama?"

Sliding the rest of himself under the porch, Rum Tum Tugger crouched next to the nest. Staring at the kitten, he began to leisurely wash a golden and spotted paw. Grooming helped him think. What did one say to a kitten in a situation like this?

Tugger glanced at the other kittens. They seemed too young yet to be talking, but this one was. The white kitten stared at him imperiously still, tiny puffy tail twitching in annoyance.

"Where's Mama? Hungry!" he (for it was a tom-kitten) demanded again.

Dropping the pigeon, Tugger thought to himself. _What do I say? Their mother has been eaten by a pair of crazy mastiffs, and they probably haven't caught the attention of the house owner. Who's to take care of them?_

"Mama is - gone," the tom spoke slowly, licking his ruff under his chin. "I'm going to take you to another queen I know."

"Hungry!" insisted the snow-pale kit, and his sibling started to mew. 

_Drat it! Are they old enough to eat meat?_ Tugger thought. The question was swiftly answered as the white kitten leapt from the nest and attacked a wing of the pigeon he'd dropped. All he succeeded in doing, however, was to get a mouthful of wet feather-bits.

"Hold it!" he ordered, holding the kitten aside with a large paw. Tugger diligently stripped feather and skin from the breast area, and then released the kitten.

_There goes that little gift for the owner. Drat it, drat it, DRAT IT!_

The other three kittens clambered over the sides of the nest and joined their brother in a pigeon feast. Soon they had eaten a good portion of the bird, and like kittens often do, dropped to sleep right there, curled up and purring over full bellies. Sighing to himself, Tugger picked them up by their scruffs and set them inside the nest, curling around them.

_It seems I'm stuck with them. Fleas. Well, Aunt Jenny will take them off my paws soon enough. _

The world swirled with pretty colors, purples and blacks and golds and silvers, and at the center of it all was the Bright Lady. She chose to appear silvery for this audience, with Her eyes shining white as the moon, as always.

She draped Herself across a nonexistent surface, and gazed down at the pale figure kneeling before Her.

:Rise, Lord Oberon.:

The humanoid figure did so, but still kept head down just a little. He might be Lord of the elven realms, but this was a goddess, one to whom he owed very large favors.

His face was terribly beautiful, too much for words. He had an aquiline nose, a slender face paler than snow, dominated by huge, green cat-eyes. Hair like quicksilver flowed over the delicate point-eared head. A perfect mouth flowed into a smile over teeth that were just a little bit longer and more pointed than one would be comfortable with having bared at oneself.

:So, Oberon, you remember what I told you before?:

"Yes, Lady. I have two names, three if a human has me for an owner, and the three shapes." 

:How goes your new life, my cousin?:

"Fair, my Lady. I was_ bored with elven court-life and wanted to find what a cat felt like. That is why I requested you grant me a cat's lives, nine from birth to death. I knew it would not be what I was used to."_

The goddess smiled slightly, encouraging him to continue.

"I never knew how much one could appreciate a full belly. Or a grooming."

Placing a paw over Her nose, Bright Lady Bast stifled Her giggle. The lord of elves, appreciative of something. Good gravy, what next? Feral swine in a courtly waltz?

:(Giggle)-cough, er, Ahem. I see you and your siblings have a new protector.:

"Oh, yes, the giant lion-cat with the large jaws."

:You wouldn't happen to be afraid_ of him in your present shape, would you?:_

"Certainly NOT!" thundered the elf king. "Er, my Lady," he added, inclining his head.

:No need, cousin. You are my kin, born to my own dam. This audience is at an end. I leave you to your new lives, until the ninth be complete and you return to the elven world.:

Tugger carried the still sleepy kits to the junkyard, one by one, leavng them in his personal den overlooking the area the Jellicle Ball was held in. Most evenings, the area was little used and so offered Rum Tum Tugger some peace and quiet. It was also unlikely anyone would find him anywhere near the kittens. 

He'd waited until sunset for the kits to finish napping. Then, Tugger had picked them up in his mouth still asleep and headed here, where a good portion of the clan was around very evening. His aunt, Jennyanydots, would likely be there, or his mother, Jellylorum.

Setting the last kitten down, Tugger pulled his favorite blanket from under the newspapers in his loft and settled it over the kits. There wasn't much left now, just enough to cover himself twice. He kept it hidden there for a very special reason. His half brother Mistoffelees had made it disappear once when he was still learning the basics of mage-craft, and Tugger was unwilling to put it in further peril out in the open.

Stifling the unpleasant memory of the battle after the disappearing blanket incident, when Misto learned to _un_vanish things very quickly indeed, Tugger rubbed his face against it and kneaded it with his paws. It was fuzzy and warm and felt like being with his littermates again. Unable to resist, he decided to nap before finding his aunt and the gold ruffed tom cuddled up under the worn cloth, faded from red and dotted with what might once have been bows.

"HEY! TUGGER!" Macavity called.

Tugger opened one eye. _Oh, no._ He'd slept until midnight, when most cats got active. Macavity approached him, grinning menacingly. His favorite blanket was visible, and there were _kittens_ curled up asleep in his den! He'd never hear the end of it!

Macavity approached his half brother. The black and red tabby had been mated a while now, to a mage queen who had healed his mind. Macavity knew how much being pushed into the role of kitten keeping embarrassed his big brother, and so roped him into babysitting as often as possible.

Tugger blocked the entrance to the den with his body, and shoved the blanket into a corner.

"Tugger, may I have a word with you?"

"What?"

Macavity exposed every fang in his mouth. "Morganna has a coven to attend, and she needs me along. Guess who kittensits?"

_Oh, fleas, ticks and vets, I might as well tell. Drat._

"Mac, I can't kittensit," said the Rum Tum Tugger. 

"And why is this?"

"Because I already am. Unless you know where to find Mom or Aunt Jenny, I'm stuck with these four," he said, moving aside so Macavity could see the still soundly sleeping kittens.

With widened yellow eyes, Macavity stared at the kittens. The little white one woke up suddenly and stared at the strange tom. Walking in a stately manner belied by his tiny tail and abundant fuzz, he sat down between the two and looked up expectantly.

"I think he wants an introduction."

"First I need his name," said Tugger irritably. "So what is your name, youngling?"

"Oberon."

Grinning at the kitten's regal airs, Macavity leaned down. "Is that King Oberon?"

"Lord."

"Lord Oberon. Uh-huh. And I'm Hermia."

"No. Too short."

"Well, Oberon, what are your brothers' names?"

"Muddle and Rags _sister_. Mop brother." Oberon walked into the den again, and nudged each kit as he named them. "Rags," he said, nuzzling his fellow kitten, a calico who did look like a bunch of bright rags. "Muddle," to a female tortoiseshell, and finally "Mop" to a little taffy-colored long hair.

Rum Tum Tugger sighed at the precocious young tom. He shouldn't even be talking yet, judging from his siblings, and someone had told him about Shakespeare.

"Anyway," he said, addressing Macavity. "Tell me where to find Mom or Aunt Jenny, and I can get rid of them. Who knows, maybe they can take care of your kits too."

"Actually," Macavity said uncomfortably. "Mom and Aunt Jenny have sworn never to kittensit our litter again. They call them the unholy trinity."

"So I'm stuck either way."

"Of course," said the ginger tom.

Oberon followed the big black and golden tom, slipping past the red and black one after thinking really hard at him, _ignore me_. He had no idea how it worked, but it did. The gold-maned tom walked for a while, over the junkyard floor, until he found an elderly tabby queen, with dark stripes on a white background and reddish ears.

Jellylorum, in her second humanoid form, looked up from the needlework she was unsnarling and saw her son and his unknown follower. 

"Mom, could I ask for your assistance?"

Jellylorum smiled as her son sat down, and the kitten imitated him but with an added arrogance in its posture. "Who's your friend?"

Tugger turned around and jumped two feet in the air, doing his infamous long-lasting bristle. A moment later, he was down on the ground, attempting to salvage some dignity despite a bottlebrush tail and spiky back.

"This," he said grumpily, "is Oberon. He's part of a quartet I found today. Their mother is dead, you don't want to know how, and I've got-er, _most_ of them in my den. Macavity's watching the other three."

Oberon chose that instant to haughtily stride in front of Tugger and again sit with that imperious, introduction-demanding glare. Tugger, still nursing bruised pride and bristled fur, did not indulge.

Jellylorum introduced herself to the kitten while Tugger shifted to the side and sulkily tried to rearrange his fur. She hadn't expected an answer from a kitten that young, and was highly surprised when he answered back.

"_Lord_ Oberon," announced the highly annoyed, snowy ball of fluff, casting a sharp glance in Tugger's direction. The large tom stuck his tongue out.

"My dear son, he's worse than you were!" she said, stifling laughter.

Part one, hope you liked it!


	2. Part 2.

I don't own CATS or "A Midsummer Night's Dream" (would that I did

I don't own CATS or "A Midsummer Night's Dream" (would that I did!)Thank you to The Druidess and Amaya Orrin, Redwall Ottermaid for my first and second positive reviews, and to all others-PLEASE at least tell me what you thought if you read this!Good, bad, whatever, just let me know I'm not the only one who reads my stuff!

Oberon part II 

Mistoffelees woke from a nap in the moonlight, the feline equivalent of sleeping late.He twitched his small black nose, and swiveled his pink lined ears.Then he switched to mage-sense.

Something odd was happening.There was magic-scent in the air, and that tingle along the back of his neck that said there was something unfamiliar and powerful nearby.Misto got to his paws and wandered the junkyard, listening and smelling for magic.

He was about two and a half, teenage for a Jellicle.He was learning how to do complicated spells that most magicians didn't master until at least ten or their species' equivalent, and Misto's powers tended to get away from him.Fortunately, he was almost completely mind-deaf once other minds were two feet away from him, with little or no other telepathic talents, or he'd be listening to conversations twenty-four hours a day.

Oh, hookworms, he thought to himself.There are disadvantages to having no mind-powers.So if he wanted to find the source of this odd magical object, he'd have to search by sort of broadcasting a sorcerous echolocation.

Following the power-scent, Mistoffelees wandered around until he came to a populated part of the junkyard.Off to a corner, he could see Jellylorum and his brother Tugger, and a little pale kitten.Oddly enough, the magic-scent came from that general direction.

_Hmm.Jellylorum has no mage-talent to my knowledge; Tugger is practically brainless as well as talentless, and the kitten?Feh, I__ didn't give off that sort of energy.No, I must be on the blink or something._

Giving up on further dozing, he went down to be introduced.

Oberon watched the small sable tom come closer.Looking at the lion-maned one, he scented close-kin, maybe even siblings.The little tom had a funny scent on him, like the smell right after a static shock, but with a, a _flavor to it.Oberon remembered it from long ago, before he could remember anything else.He sometimes scented it on himself._

He listened to the conversation between the tiny black tom and the tabby queen, half-understanding what was said.Fortunately, he didn't have to put anyone in their place because the queen introduced him properly as Lord Oberon.Even if it was sarcastic.

Eventually, they got around to the subject of who would raise him and his littermates.Well, Oberon thought, I've already decided.Lion-mane retrieves us, he cares for us.If he has a fancy spiky collar like that, then he should have a prosperous home and two-leg pets.

Wait a minute.How had he figured that?

"Mom, who do we usually ask about adopting kittens?"

"Deuteronomy, my dear.He's advisor, wise-tom.He usually knows what to do with kittens, the same as he knows who's sent to the Bright Lady at the Jellicle Ball."

Rum Tum Tugger then remembered his intentions to ask for his mother to kittensit.Jellylorum smiled, but said, "No, I can't.Jenny and I are going with our pets to the beach, whatever that is.You're stuck with both litters."

"I could help," volunteered Mistoffelees.All three, Tugger, Jelly, and Oberon, turned to look at him.

"All right," said Tugger and Jellylorum.Oberon simply thought to himself, _I'll permit it for now, but Lion-Mane takes us after._

Soon after, about dawn, Macavity and Tugger's respective charges had been gathered together before Mistoffelees.With a wave of his paw, sable save a rim of white about the pads, he transported himself and the seven kittens to his home in Victoria Grove. Mistoffelees's pets' staff looked up in surprise as their employers' dear Merlin the Magnificent trotted in from the kitchen, trailing a string of multi-colored kittens.They could have sworn he was on the balcony batting at string.

Mistoffelees settled the kits in front of the banked fire, speaking in the common cat-language rather than Jellicle speech, so his pets' staff would have no suspicion of anything but a lot of mrowing.

"Roll call, younglings!" he said cheerfully."You, I already know, Oberon," said the magician to the cotton ball kitten."Lor-" Oberon's correction was cut off by Mistoffelees continuing to take attendance.

Rags, Mop and Muddle stumbled over their names and their brother had to help them.Morgan, Russa, and Fireflash were older and knew their names well.After knowing their names, Mistoffelees settled them in a large sewing basket (after conjuring out the needles), and they promptly fell asleep again.

The staff of the Victoria Grove mansion was used to strange comings and goings by feline visitors of the house.They brought out a deep dish of cream and a bowl of tiny meat chunks that their employers insisted be fed to Merlin the Magnificent.Mistoffelees accepted their offerings graciously, and ate and drank a little, saving most for the kittens.

The staff had little to do after morning cleaning until the residents wanted breakfast.So they often sat by the fire and talked, and petted the sable tom that never seemed to grow even with the feeding his owners ordered.Merlin the Magnificent was his family name, but they called him Sable because he was.

"Well, Sable," said one of the maids, glancing at the contents of the sewing basket."Did you get some queen in trouble?"

_"Ahem, madam, but I __have nothing to do with these babes except that I am kittensitting them," announced the magician tom, sending an aloof glare and refusing further attention for the moment.The maid, of course, heard only offended meows._

Parading over to the cook, Mistoffelees arched his back under her palm.Oberon woke up again, and Mistoffelees noticed the kitten staring at him.

"Watch, kit.This is your very first lesson in how to be a successful feline.How to suck up for a belly-rub," whispered the raven tom.Sprawling on his back in front of the cook, Mistoffelees curled up just a little and stretched his paws, and lay on his back looking up adoringly at her.Needless to say, he was picked up and snuggled to within an inch of his life.

Purring drowsily, he was settled next to the fire by the cook.Opening one eye slightly, he glanced at Oberon."Any questions?Good.That concludes lesson one."And vibrating his throat like a motor, the magician tom slid into dreams.

Oberon cocked his head as the small black tom melted bonelessly in front of the fire.That "tummy-rub" idea sounded interesting.Clambering out of the basket and leaving his siblings and the other litter asleep, the tiny white kitten snuggled up to the cook.Twining himself about her ankle as best he could, Oberon gave a tiny kitten-purr.He was almost immediately caught up and cuddled by everyone there.

After being thoroughly snuggled, Oberon was tucked back into the basket.One of the other litter, a queen-kit named Fireflash, woke up and started to walk over to him, over the other kittens.She was a medium-length hair, in gingery red with a white stomach and mouth and chin.

Oberon widened his green eyes with curiosity.She widened her yellow ones, and deftly stepped over the others to sit right before him.

"You smell like Mama!"

Fireflash referred to her mother Morganna, a queen who had great power and talent for mage-craft.She leaned forward, touching noses with Oberon.She was about three weeks older, and he was small for his age, so Fireflash towered over him a good two inches.

This may be a bit impertinent of me, but I have an idea for a fanfiction challenge.I saw an episode of the original Star Trek, and it had a creature that called itself Apollo and claimed to be a god, that lived on worship.What if Rum-Tum turned out to be a creature/specter/whatever of that nature, needing adulation to survive?Make him good, evil, or merely trying to survive as you like.


End file.
